Today was a dope day. After morning meetings, I went with Isis, Asha’s son, who is about my age, cool rasta dude, to the farmers market. Only on Friday’s a large group of vendors come together to sell their fruits, veggies, and handicrafts. This is a place I feel very comfortable in. As I walk into the fruit stall I follow my 4 steps. One greet everyone. Two make a joke. “Hi, may I have some bananas.”
“Yes, mum. Which type would you like? These sweet ones, these bigger ones, these one that are ready today, or those ones that are ready tomorrow.” They all look the same to me.
“Well as the fruit professional, which do you recommend?” A chuckling. I’m in.
He really was a fruit expert. After selecting my bananas and pineapple he asked if I’d like it cut. The man sliced off the skin. Carved out the brown prickly circles and sliced into perfect stars.
“How long are you here for?” He asks.
“A month is my reply.” Before any unsolicited invitations. Step 3 keep walking and step 4 relax.
After our trip to the farmers market I’m asking if it’s okay to stop by Isis fathers home. Isis is a quiet man and as we drive a calm energy permeates the car. With a broken radio and no need to fill the car we talk, we just drive.
Isis’s father is not a quiet man. A large man with untied timberland boots, he looks like he’s come from a bodega in Brooklyn. His home seems to have been under construction Isis’s entire life. I receive a tour, education on the rasta way, compliments and gifts. A mango, bottle of honey, and stick of weed. All grown and collected from his property. I suggest he find some foreigners who know how to lay tile, put in plumbing, and other house building skills to stay with him for free in exchange for help. My prediction is a burst of travel to start soon. Invitations, opportunities, and experiences such as Father of Isis can provide is the type of sustainable travel that is needed.
